Broken Pieces
by 7kstar
Summary: Don faces a difficult time when a case he is working on goes horribly bad. Doesn’t handle it well, so can family help when the unthinkable happens. Don finally wakes up.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating: PG-13 or T . **  
**Disclaimer:** **Numb3rs not my property, Don't own the characters, just playing with them for a bit, and then I'll return them slightly used. Oh, not making any money off of this venture.**

**A/N: An idea that won't leave me alone, so I decided to post. A work in progress, but I promise I will finish, just not when. Don faces a difficult time when a case he is working on goes horribly bad. Doesn't handle it well, so can family help when the unthinkable happens. Just a piece that is looking at the brothers relationship.  
**  
**Thanks Rittenden for helping me to improve my writing skills and PhlebotomyGirl for a medical error that needed fixing. Any other mistakes are all mine. Thanks for the encouragement for me to keep writing otherwise, I might have stopped. I don't mind constructive criticism, but will ignore flames. Okay on with the first chapter.  
**

**

* * *

**

Sip,  
A slow burn as the cool liquid slides down his throat.

Sip, Sip.

Desperately trying to forget. Closing his eyes, wishing everything could be erased.

Gulp, sip.

Seeing the image over and over again, sealing fate as a lifeless body falls to the ground. The soulful eyes – the wonder and magic that would never again be expressed.  
**  
**_My fault! If only I had reacted differently, everything could have been different. What if…I should have…_

Guzzling down the beer and angrily throwing the empty bottle against the wall.

**Crash! **

He stares in fascination as the bottle shatters into pieces no longer whole… complete. Remembering a life that was no longer whole. No longer breathing. Clutching another bottle, continuing his vigil.

How many beers? He couldn't remember. Lost count. Who cares… no longer a reason to care. A beautiful soul was snuffed out, and he might as well have pulled the trigger himself.  
**  
_MY FAULT! _**_Damn…_

Sip.

Fighting against the desire to cry a lone tear escapes to freedom, rolling down his cheek. He couldn't cry… _wouldn't _cry.

Sip, Gulp, Guzzle.

The cool liquid, satisfying and yet… not. Hopeless, it was so stupid…it shouldn't have _happened_!

Tears rolling down his cheek. Fighting the urge to sob, to allow himself to cry. 

Control, even now is maintain, knowing that if he gives in, allows himself to give in it will be over. Wishing he could turn back time, could believe in magic, but knowing this time it was all illogical.

Sip, Sip.

_It should have been me! I was older. Too young… so much to live for and now it was too late. Age didn't matter…I'm the responsible one…It was my job to protect. If anyone should have died, it should have been me. Not…_

**  
**A knock interrupts his thoughts. Still, he makes no move to answer the door.

"Go away...You can't fix this...No one can..."

Sip.**  
**Another knock, more persistent and a hollering of his name.  
**  
**"Don!" Banging on the door continues. "Don, I know you're inside. Don open up. Please!" A voice pleads.

_Go away, I don't want to talk with you__! At least not right now. I need time. Time by myself. If I ignore him, he might just leave. No way... someone told him. Thinks he has to fix this, but how do you fix this? Funny the stuff you remember after someone dies, when it's too late...the images that won't go away. The eyes, hair...the smile...all gone because I failed...I failed..._

"Don" I'll kick this door in, I swear. If you don't open up, I swear I'll kick the door in!"  
**  
**_Damn!_**  
**

Don rises slowly and unsteadily as he stumbles to the door. Carefully, he braces himself against the door frame before inhaling a deep breath to steel himself against the barrage of questions that he knows that will come his way. Slowly putting up the barricades, hiding behind his carefully constructed walls, making sure the mask was in place and immovable. He opens the door and lets Charlie in, without saying a word. Energy spent. Stiffly he stumbles back to the couch, picks up his beer - resuming his vigil. **  
**

Sip.  
_Charlie, your eyes, man do you know how much it hurts to see you right now. Her eyes...they're haunting me… because you remind me of her. You're the last person I need to see right now, but I can't say that...goes against big brother rules..._

Sip, Guzzle.

Now that Charlie is in, he stands unsure of what to do next. Slowly, he takes it all in, seeing everything including the empty bottles. Wondering - how can he help? He knows Don is hurting and blaming himself. The mystery to solve was - why? Racing to find the right words, yet failing at every turn.  
_  
Damn it, Don, it wasn't your fault, You, can't blame yourself_…terrible stuff happens sometimes…but instead of saying what is on his mind, he simply says, "Don, I'm sorry." Standing close, yet feeling so far away, afraid to sit next to him. Hesitantly trying to avoid invading his space. Watching, wondering "How can I help?" 

Don doesn't look up, he just takes another sip. Finally a sigh, "Charlie, not now." Pleading eyes. "Please, go. I can't do this right now."

"Don, you can't be alone, you know that. That's why David called me. I don't want to interrupt Dad's business trip, but I will...You shouldn't be drinking. Either let me stay or come home with me. You can keep me company until Dad gets back." The words rushed out of his mouth, stuttering and hoping,and praying to discover the right words.

Forcefully, more sure of himself as he knows he is on more solid ground. "The doctor said, you had to stay with someone, remember? You promised David you were taking a cab to my house, but you never showed up."

Charlie continues, "You lied...so I had to come over. I want to remind you - the reason they let you go was because you would be staying home with me." Anger - guilt - pushes him to do the unthinkable. Charlie grabs the bottle out of his brother's hand and smashes it against the wall, all the while shouting, "No more - and you're coming home with me...Now!"  
**  
**Don barely acknowledges his brother. For a second, shock registers on his face before he once again schools his features shut, wondering: when did his brother get so demanding?

He stands, wobbles, wishing to impress, instead noticing how his energy flees. His eyes roll back into his head and he collapses, on the floor. Charlie tries to catch him, but he isn't in the correct position and watches in horror as Don's head hits the coffee table.

Blood…So much blood everywhere…. Racing to grab a towel and desperately trying to stop the flow of blood. Frantically, he calls for an ambulance….

"Don, you've got to fight," God he's not breathing, He's not breathing….

Time stands still. Charlie struggles to remember any information that could help him with this situation. A person only has four to six minutes before they suffer some kind of brain damage. "Don come on breathe…okay…you can do this." Charlie initiates mouth to mouth.

"Don, please." Charlie cries when he sees his brother breathing on his own. "Thank God, stay with me. Open your eyes…I know you can do it. Don the paramedics are here…Got to let them in." Charlie opens the door and permits them to enter. Then the unthinkable happens, Don stops breathing again.

His worse nightmare is coming true as he watches helplessly as the EMT's struggle to bring his brother back from death's door.

BeeeeeeeeeeeeEEP…a flat line.

"We're losing him! Clear!"

Charlie doesn't even hear himself scream as the words escape his mouth. "NO! God, no!"  
**  
**Then the blessed sound of a heart monitor, telling everyone that he was alive. Don was alive. Unconscious but alive.  
**  
**A strange voice penetrates his brain. "Sir, how much alcohol has he consumed?" 

Disoriented… numbers flying around his mind… buzzing… demanding that he escape into the safe luxury of his numbers. Fighting to stay present. Knowing his brother needs him – is depending on him.

"I don't know, I just got here. He shouldn't have been drinking. I know he was hurt, but not really how. Please, help him."

"Okay, he's stable for now. Lets roll!"

Resisting the urge to grab his hand, instead he shouts, "I'm coming with you!"

8 minutes. For 8 minutes, Don has been unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: On one message board, using the B word once, changed it to a higher rating than PG – 13. So If that bothers you have been warned.

The language will go back to PG – 13 after this chapter.

**

* * *

Chap. 2**

**Tick, Tick**

Wearily Charlie collapses into the hard plastic chair. Everything was a blur. He barely remembers the ambulance ride, filling out the paperwork and precious time lost by arguing with the nurse, that insisted that his brother was an alcoholic. Looking at the clock he adds up the missing minutes, wondering how much longer would he have to wait?

_Waiting **8 minutes** for the ambulance to arrive and struggling with mouth to mouth. **10 minutes** to drive to the hospital. **27 minutes** killing time in the ER for word about his brother's condition. How much valuable time was wasted arguing with that headstrong nurse?_ _What_ a _Bitch!_

Time seems to stand still as the memory takes over.

_**Charlie scrutinizes everyone as they surround Don. Hearing a loud screeching voice yelling out his vitals. A middle age domineering female nurse shoves Charlie out of the way, "Sir, you need to wait in the waiting area. Okay, people we have another drunk to save."**_

_**Too shocked to respond, Charlie watches in horror as the woman continues to humiliate his brother by jumping to the wrong conclusions.**_

"_**What a waste. Why doesn't he just take a gun to his head and get it over with. That would be faster than drinking himself to death. Really did it to himself this time."**_

_**Feelings of vengeance overwhelms Charlie as he listens to the insults that this callous nurse spouts out about his brother. **_

"_**Get out" as Charlie clinches his fists trying to bottle the rage - barely controlling his anger. **_

_**At first ignoring Charlie, she finally notices a young man fuming in front of her face. "What? Excuse me, but what are you doing in here? You will have to leave. Only personal allowed in the Emergency Room," she replies with a smug expression on her face. "You'll need to go back to the waiting area."**_

**_Charlie couldn't believe his ears. A nurse – a nobody – how dare she… Gritting his teeth together, Charlie stood his ground. "My brother is NOT an alcoholic, He is a FBI agent. A damn good one. Something happened and he drank too much tonight, but this isn't his normal behavior. Now get out! I demand that someone professional treats my brother!" screams Charlie, barely controlling his impulses to hurt this monster in front of him._**

_**For a moment, everyone stands still. Frozen. Until an older gentlemen enters the room. "Excuse me. "What seems to be the problem?" **_

_**Charlie points at the nurse, "I don't want her touching my brother. Instead of helping him, she's saying he should just shoot himself and get it over with. I demand someone else take care of my brother. He deserves respect and better care! Besides, shouldn't a doctor be supervising his treatment!"**_

" **_Carol… how many times have you been warned about overstepping your authority_**? **_This will have to go on your record." replies the man in a steady but calming voice. A voice of experience. Turning back to Charlie, he takes a deep breath. "Hi, I'm Doctor Hinchman. I will personally take charge of this patient and I promise you that he will get the best medical care possible. I won't ask you to leave if you will just stand back and stay out of the way until we can get him stabilized." _**

_**For the first time he gets a good look at the young man on the exam table. Shock registers on his face as recognition takes over. "Don Eppes…what have you done?" **_

_**Turning, the doctor addresses the overbearing nurse. "Okay, Carol - I believe you can better serve elsewhere. Leave. I'll handle this one. Especially since I'm fully aware of his prior injuries from this afternoon. I dismissed him against my better judgment. It won't happen again. The proper recovery for a slight concussion and a bruised heart is bed rest and supervision. Young man, can you tell me why Don ignored my explicit instruction? Sorry, I don't know your name. Your brother, certainly wasn't dismissed from the ER to go home and drink."**_

"_**It's Charlie. I don't know. When I got to the apartment late this evening, he was clearly drunk. Please, you have to help him." He starts to relax a little upon seeing that this man was capable of taking care of his brother.**_

_**Of course, so how long as he been unconscious?" inquired the doctor with a piercing look at Charlie and the rest of the remaining staff.**_

_**Glancing at the clock, Charlie quickly estimated the time. About 20 minutes.**_

_**Okay, let's get a CT Scan. Move it people, time is of the essence. ordered Dr. Hinchman. Now, I need you to wait out in the waiting room. I'll give you an update as soon as possible. Let us do our job to save your brother's life, okay?" He smiles to take the sting out of his words. **_

_**For a moment longer Charlie watches until he is sure that Don will receive proper treatment. Seeing that the last part was stated with kindness and understanding, Charlie could only nod as he allowed a young attractive nurse to lead him out of the room. **_

"_**Look, we need his medical history. Anything you can tell us could make the difference. What is he allergic to, prior injuries and everything," states the eye-catching nurse.**_

"**_That's just it, I don't know how he got hurt or what happened before I got to his apartment…I don't know…stammers Charlie."_**

* * *

Snapping back to the present time Charlie wondered, _How Long? How long has it been? _

**Tick, Tick. Ding…**

Glancing at the clock, double checking the time, Charlie tried to calculate the time. Charlie guessed at least an hour and fifteen minutes. Agony…the wait was agony. Watching different groups entering the elevator or walking down the hallway. Searching for a doctor that never came.

_What if it has been too long? Head injuries, what were the statistics? Especially, head injuries mixed with alcohol? _Time was of the essence. The longer Don stayed unconscious, the stronger the possibility that he wouldn't be the brother he knew. The brother he depended upon. God, Don was the strong one. He would know how to handle this, if the situation was reversed. _Don you've got to get better, Dad needs you. **I need you… **_

A need to escape from his thoughts, he started counting,… counting the tiles,… focusing on the dots in the tiles,… he counted. Mundane, but it stopped the worrying. It stopped the pain. Anything more complicated and Charlie was afraid he would escape into the math and disappear like he did with mom near the end of her illness, but he couldn't this time. Don wasn't here to pull him out of his bubble world, he couldn't count on his brother, at least not right now. This time, he had to be available. This time, his brother was depending on him.

**Ring, Ring**

Charlie fumbled for his cell phone almost dropping it before he answered. "Hello?"

"Charlie, did you manage to get Don to rest?" Asked David.

"David, what in the world has happened? Don's hurt and back in the hospital." Charlie collapsed and cradled his head in his hands while still managing to keep the cell phone to his ear.

"…When I got to the apartment, Don was really drunk. I've never seen him so drunk. Angry. He lost his balance and struck his head on the coffee table. He was unconscious…the last time I saw him…Okay, thanks, I'll see you in few minutes. Using the siren, Okay be safe."

_David is coming, David is coming,_ Charlie couldn't stop chanting, _David is coming!_

Charlie didn't even hear David's footsteps - so engrossed in his thoughts. Jumping slightly, Charlie relaxed as he realized that David had arrived.

"Easy Charlie, I just got here. Have you heard anything?" asked David anxiously.

"No, and it can't be good news, if we are still in the dark, can it," mumbled

Charlie as he slumped back into the chair. "Don, what have you done?"

"Excuse me, I think I can answer that." Doctor Hinchman's voice carried to both Charlie and David at the same time. Slightly startled, they turned in unison.

"Sorry…didn't mean to surprise you both. I knew you would like an update. Unfortunately, it isn't all good news. Don is still unconscious. The CT scan shows no skull fractures, hematomas or contusions. At this time his vitals are stable. He is in ICU so we can observe and tend to his needs. I suspect that the alcohol is a contributing force for him still being unconscious. But beyond that, everything else is a mystery. He should be waking up, but he isn't. His eyes are slightly responsive to the light, but he isn't showing any signs of waking up yet. I wish I had better news," finished Dr. Hinchman, shaking his head.

"Can I see him?" whispered Charlie.

"Look, I'll give you ten minutes, but that's all. I know this seems so unfair, but right now, we have to limit the visitors. It will look scary to see all the machines he's hooked up to, but they're necessary. We have to monitor his vitals. Hopefully, when we finish flushing out the alcohol, he will respond by waking up. The longer…well…Unfortunately, a coma is a real possibility right now. He tried to give them a reassuring smile. Of course, from Don's perspective, there isn't much difference between being unconscious or in a coma. Come with me, I'll take you to see your brother."

**David smiles encouragingly, and Charlie followed the doctor leaving David behind, hoping against hope, that once again Don will beat the odds…**

TBC

* * *

**A/N:** Yep, another cliff hanger. According to the research the medical stuff is correct. Hopefully, it works. This is NOT a death fic! Just in case, you were afraid of that. Don may be injured, but he will live eventually… just not telling how or in what condition - yet. Thanks for reading and for any constructive criticism you have. _Please review_…If I ask real nice, will you do it? If I missed any grammar stuff, well the mistakes are all mine! 


	3. Chapter 3

Tension radiates up and down his spine, wondering – could he measure up? A litany of phrases rushes through his mind. What if… could have…should have. And for a tiny moment he zones out and time stands perfectly still. **Could he have prevented this? Should he have reacted differently? What if he had gotten to Don's apartment sooner? **Trying desperately to still his mind so he could focus on the present.

**Ding, Swoosh, Beep.**

Several sounds snap him back to reality, listening and realizing that some of them sounds aren't coming from Don's room. Inhaling a deep cleansing breath, Charlie gathers his nerves to enter the tiny space. At first glance, he avoids looking at Don. Instead his eyes scan the various machines that his brother is now hooked up to. Efficient machines dependent on math and science to operate. For a brief moment he smiles, allowing familiar thought patterns to create a small distraction and give a minuscule amount of comfort. However, once his brain connects the dots and he recognizes Don, he can't but help but berate himself for his momentary lapse.

**Drip, Drip**

Cautiously, he steps over to him. He picks up Don's hand and fights back the tears. _Can't cry…get a hold of yourself_…This wasn't the brother he knew – that he depended upon. **Still**. So still and lifeless. Guilt rears his ugly head and for a moment he stands frozen as his thoughts overwhelms him.

**How many times had his brother been there for him?**Okay, there were the few times he had let him down, the few times he had wished his brother dead…_Oh, God, I didn't mean it…I was just a kid…don't let him die. Please…_Desperately he fights to maintain control, but a single tear slides down his cheek as he looks up at the ceiling. This isn't his brother. His brother is the G-Man. Action. Always ready for action. Confident and full of life.

Leaning closer he struggles to say what is on his heart. Knowing that if Don was awake he could never get away with baring his soul, but no longer unable to still his voice.

"Don, I wish I had gotten the message sooner. I…I…forgot my cell phone was off. You know me, always working on math. I was so excited…getting somewhere, the equations bursting forth like fireworks and I couldn't ignore them…I…I didn't want to be disturbed." Taking a short pause to catch his breath. But his voice wouldn't remain silent. He continued on, despite the occasional stuttering – something he would be embarrassed about if Don was awake. In the stillness, Charlie gathers his resolve to clear the air. To just get it out in the open.

"I just had to solve it. Answers… so many answers… to so many captivating questions…you know how I am…once I get started, I just can't stop…so I turned my cell phone off ...you can understand that, can't you?" emphasizes Charlie as he scrambles to get the rest of his words out.

Feeling stronger, more sure of himself, he moves closer and dares to stroke his brother's face once with his right hand, all the while wishing for a response. Then he gently squeezes his brother's hand with both of his own hands as he continues to stand by his brother's side, feeling small and inadequate for the job of caring for his older brother.

"Now, I know you're out of it. Couldn't get away with it, if you were awake. Don't you realize you're in danger of receiving a hug? I could hug you and you can't stop me…Don, you have to wake up." The last part he barely above a whisper, feeling as if he's some kind of character in a TV show, not a real person living a very real nightmare.

**Beep, Drip, Beep, Drip**

"Now, who's being stubborn?" His mouth curves upward creating a slight smirk. "How can you be in charge, if you stay asleep? Now, is a perfect time for me to go through all your stuff. You always did have cool stuff. I'm warning you…Can't stop me if you don't wake up." Charlie's grin slips off his face as guilt once again assaults him.

Nothing – no response. Just the machines and the steady rise and fall of Don's chest are all the company Charlie has. "Damn." Charlie rests his head on his arms refusing to let go of the connection he feels in his hand…afraid to let go.

"Don, I know something happened – something really awful. Hiding isn't what defines you. Please, bro. You have to wake up."

"I'm sorry, but it's time," assaults his ears as a young nurse interrupts his precious time with his older brother. "You can come back in an hour. Dr. Hinchman told me that a friend of yours was waiting. Do you remember how to get back to the waiting area?" Charlie turns and stares into her kind blue eyes, then shakes his head not trusting his voice just quite yet, his piercing eyes requesting help and understanding. Taking one last look, he leaves to find David. It was time for some answers. He needs definite answers to fill this aching hole inside of his heart.

With a purposeful stride, Charlie finds himself face to face with David. Before he could demand anything, David stops him in his tracks with a simple question.

"Charlie, have you gotten hold of Alan?"

Startled, Charlie stumbles and David manages to catch him before he falls.

"I can't believe I haven't called him," he says. "I…I don't know how it slipped my mind…how can you forget to call your dad?"

Kind eyes and gentle hands help Charlie to sit in the typical hardback hospital chair. A simple smile of encouragement and he knows that he can do this. He pulls out his cell phone and calls his dad.

**Ring…Ring…**

He stares at the phone in disbelief as it transfers to a Voicemail.

"Dad, Look…I need you to call me back as soon as you get this message. It's urgent. Be careful, Charlie." He ends the call and expectantly looks for reassurance from David.

"David, I need to know what on earth happened. According to your message, Don was being dropped off at my house and I was to meet him there. If I hadn't dropped by his apartment…if Don had fallen while he was alone…I don't even want to think about the consequences…I…" The words rushed out of his mouth.

"Charlie, I can't give you all the details," David softly states. Charlie's eyes gleams with rage but David next phrase deflates him before he can respond.

"No, it has nothing to do with your clearance level…I made a promise to Don." He places a hand on Charlie's shoulder and hopes he'll understand. "I really don't know all the details, but under the circumstances, I think I can say this much."

Gratefully, Charlie nods his head and braces himself for some very disturbing images. David sits in the chair next to Charlie and struggles with finding the right words.

"It involves a kidnapping of a little girl. To be honest, in the beginning it was a routine case – simple procedure – by the book. You know what I mean? So simple…but suddenly everything went south, and no one was prepared for what happened next. Complications…they don't always prepare you for the complications. You try to think of all the possible scenarios, but it's never quite that easy. One minute Don is ordering him to let the girl go, and the next – he's down. Shots are being fired and everyone is ducking for cover. Loss of control."

**Ding. **

Charlie's sidetracked by the elevator door, but he immediately regains his focus when he hears the word 'hostage'.

"Don took one in the chest – I think he hit his head, too – and before any of could react, he was a hostage. Now we had two victims to rescue and it was anything but calm. It got messy and ugly fast. Before we could regroup and stop it, Don and the little girl were dragged out of our sight and behind closed doors."

"Don, was taken hostage? But…"

"Yes," David cut in. "I still can't figure out all of the events. We can guess at some of them, but Don…Don couldn't accept that _he_ was the one that was rescued. How can any agent prepare for that? The little girl he was supposed to rescuing, is instead killed by a single bullet and saves Don's life." David shook his head. "Charlie, can you understand how devastating that was for Don? When I finally got to him, he is holding her in his arms, whispering and encouraging her to live. Her lifeless eyes said it all. He was in shock and couldn't comprehend that it was over. If his body hadn't chosen that moment to shut down, I don't think we could have gotten him in the ambulance."

Clearing his throat, and wiping his eyes, Charlie asks, "Was Dr. Hinchman his doctor?"

Looking Charlie in the eye, he answers simply. "Yes."

"Why didn't Don stay overnight or at least wait till someone could come and look after him? I wish I had gotten the message sooner, then maybe…"

"That seems like logical and sound advice, but logic wasn't ruling Don." David adds, "Against our better judgment… we all gave in to his demands. Not without extracting a few promises, but obviously his word didn't mean much."

"But why wouldn't the doctor keep him? Charlie searches for clarity and some kind of comprehension about the unthinkable. "He ignores sound medical advice didn't he?" Charlie probes.

"You know your brother. His injuries weren't that bad. A bruise on his chest from the Kevlar vest stopping a bullet, and a slight concussion. His heart was fine, so the doc just wanted him monitored. I got a call from the office and couldn't stay. Otherwise, it might have gone differently. I drove Don to his apartment to pick up a few things. All the while he promised to grab a cab to your house. But we can see how he followed instructions." For a moment, he stares at the floor and dreads asking the question knowing the answer won't give any comfort or stop him from wondering: **What more could he have done?**

Charlie stands, clenching and unclenching his fists, "I've got to get out of here for a bit. I need some air…too little air… I've got to go."

David stands, too. "Fine, but your not leaving my sight. I've got enough to deal with, letting Don trick me like he did. I'm your five o'clock shadow. Where you go, I go. Lead on… let's go get some air. We've got another thirty minutes, before you can see Don again."

Gratefully Charlie nods as he searches for the nearest exit. He feels a hand on his shoulder, guiding him and he realizes he's not alone. No matter what happens, he isn't alone anymore.

**

* * *

A/N: Put this at the end so you don't have to read if you don't want to. Carol the nurse was loosely based on an experience I had in the hospital. She was unprofessional and degrading. I was in too much pain, to deal with it. She wasn't fired even though we complained about her the first night. Several of the nurses apologized for her rude behavior. She worked the night shift. My guess to the reason, was so she did less harm. So that is why I didn't have Carol fired. I doubt we will see her again. I just sort of used the character to release some bad stuff for me. I don't believe all nurses or doctors are bad, but I must admit. I avoid going to the doctor unless I can't find any other way for something to heal. Doing it right now, trying to see if my sprained foot will heal naturally.**

**I don't hate doctors, I just don't trust them. Had too many bad experiences. But I think Don and Charlie will be dealing with the nice ones. I know they are out there! Hope that explains Carol.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Poke, prod**

_5 more minutes…okay, I'm getting up…uh… cold…Head hurts...something's off. Hey, I heard that……Don't talk about me like I'm not here…what? You, think I'm no good…a waste of time…Why, what did I do to you? Alcoholic? If this is a nightmare will someone please wake me up! …Somebody pinch me. Charlie, is that you? _

_Thanks, Charlie…thanks for getting her out of here. I'm tired…tired just going to take a short nap, then I'll wake up…just 5 minutes, okay?_

**Push, jab**

_Huh? … can't move…man this feels weird. Charlie…wasn't he just here? Dad…Dad can you hear me?_

_Charlie, Dad? …Cold. Hey, can I get a blanket? …Ouch!_

_Did I tell you I hate needles! Oh, great, just throw me around next time. Does anybody know what time it is? Man, this is so bizarre…_

_Okay, you're an FBI agent, think like one. Okay, the last thing I remember…At a crime scene…someone shot…was I shot? Hey, a little help here, would be nice. Okay, try moving right hand. Nope, okay how about a finger, just lift a finger…What on earth? Hey, do I look like a pin cushion to you? What is this, a bad experiment gone wrong. How long have I been here…Answer me… please. Is this an episode of the Twilight Zone or what? Don't panic, there is a perfectly logical reason to why I can't move…what that is seems to be escaping me for the moment… must be a prank. When I find out who did this, they are going to pay! _

_

* * *

_

_**Observation**._ David scrutinized Charlie's demeanor and felt relieved to monitor a few changes: calmer yet still, silent. Obtaining data through surveillance was something he was very comfortable with.

So watching Charlie staring out into space – so to speak – said volumes about his emotional state. On the whole he admired Charlie Eppes' composure. Oh, there was no doubt in David's mind that Don's brother was stressed and a little frazzled, but he was coping the best he could in a situation where uncertainty was playing a huge role in deciding a certain FBI agent's fate. _**Luck**_. Charlie had needed to get outdoors to get centered and next to the UCLA Med Center was an incredible botanical gardens. So taking his cue from Charlie, he hadn't said anything either, just sat silently watching the birds and butterflies, soaking in the nature. _You can breathe here._ _Hopefully, it is helping, Charlie…when you're ready, I'll be here to listen._

**Ring, Ring**

Charlie hesitated for a bit and then quickly flipped open his phone. "Dad? Dad…there's been an accident…It's bad…Don…He needs you." For a moment he didn't speak, just nodded his head to a one-sided conversation. "Yes, we're at the UCLA…You already called for a flight home… The first available flight doesn't leave for another hour? Dad… Don't fret, it's okay. I can handle it, I promise…You just be careful, get here safe… I need…I love you." Whispering the last part into the mouthpiece.

"Charlie, does he need someone to pick him up at the airport?" inquired David. "If we know the flight number, I might be able to arrange it."

"Dad - when do you get in, do you want me to pick you up? …Okay, I'll stay with Don…No, I'm not alone, David is here right now…can you speak with him? Sure…just a sec…"

The phone slipped from his hand, but David caught it in nick of time. Charlie stared at his traitorous fingers. David smiled to reassure him and then listened to Alan on the cell phone.

Charlie tuned them out. For a moment, he just tuned them both out. Heavy, the air felt heavy.

Don, is this what you felt like when near the end when Mom was dying and I just left you to deal with it alone? No wonder, you got so furious with me…I just couldn't see her like that…It was selfish, I know, but I just didn't want to remember her that way…I needed…I just wanted the last image of her to remain strong and vibrant…Mom, I sure could use your help, now…You would know how to make everything better.

A voice breaks his concentration.

"Charlie, it's all arranged. Megan will pick up your Dad and bring him by. She's called Larry and he's making the arrangements to cover your classes for a few days. Told you not to worry…Larry's swinging by later. Amita is going out of town for a few days, but she'll help when she gets back. …Charlie did you hear me…Charlie?" David lightly shook his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

Charlie stammered, uncertain how to proceed. "Sorry, I just zone out …David, do you …how do you…man, you must think I am some kind of nutcase." A slight grin appeared on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I can't even collect my own thoughts to ask a simple question. No wonder, Don feels he always has to protect me." In despair, he hung his head, waiting for the answer he knew he deserves.

David watched Charlie berate himself for his imagined weaknesses. Slowly inhaling, he assembles his own ragged thoughts. "Charlie, when Don hit his head, what did you do? Tell me what action you took when it was critical to save your brother's life."

"I…I froze for a moment, then I looked for a towel to stop the bleeding. By the time I got the towel, Don had quit breathing… A person only has 4 to 6 minutes before they suffer some kind of brain damage. I couldn't allow that to happen, so I made a choice and concentrated on mouth to mouth. I thought I was successful, because for a moment he took a couple of breaths on his own… but then he stopped breathing just before the paramedics arrived. He stopped breathing twice. If the paramedics hadn't gotten there, Don would have died…and it would have been my fault." Charlie hung his head as though he was ashamed of his actions.

"No, Charlie, David replied gently. "That's where you are very wrong. Your brother did a stupid thing. He drank alcohol while having a concussion. You stayed focus, assessed the situation, examined your possible solutions, and then began immediate treatment to save your brother's life. You're not a nutcase. Sounds like someone I could depend on during a dicey situation."

Charlie smiled for the first time since David showed up on the scene. "David, sometimes it's difficult being the little brother. Don and Dad don't realize that the FBI, isn't the only organization I consult for. I just wish Don had felt he could count on me and trust me to be there for him" He paused. "This whole nightmare could have been avoided if he had just followed through with his promises. He's always breaking his promises to me…why?"

David didn't answer, but instead awkwardly places his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself over this. Brothers make mistakes…sometimes very stupid ones. Even FBI agents. It's not about you…it's Don's baggage. Stuff from his past and this last case. His reactions seemed off to me and still I left him. So part of the blame could be pointed in my direction, but what that accomplish? Will it help heal, Don?" Checking out his watch, he added, "Why don't we head back. It almost time for you to visit your brother again. Don't beat yourself up Charlie. Instead, focus on the job – what you can do right now. Considering everything that happened, you've handled yourself very well…so let yourself off the hook and know that whatever happens, Charles Eppes is a pretty amazing guy. I think you're up it."

The air felt lighter. Taking a nice deep breath, Charlie smiled and together they headed back into the hospital – he still wasn't sure what he'd find out, but felt more confident that he'd be able to deal with whatever challenge that showed up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Tick tock**,

Rushing to the door, Don steps into his father's house. _Correction Charlie's_ _house_. But he still thought of it as 'Dad's house'. A haunting melody drifts around him. For a moment he wonders where on earth everyone has gone. "Dad…Charlie…" And then his world stops. He spots her sitting on the piano bench and realizes _she_ is playing the stirring tune. "**Mom**." The words barely above a whisper. **Frozen**. For a moment he stands still, soaking in the presence, examining her. Then it dawns on him, that something is really off. **Age.** She's younger, vibrant. **Alive**. Realization hits as he admits, he never knew this secret when she had lived. Not only could she play marvelously, it was as if she was **weaving a spell** around him, surrounding him with sound.

Memories assault him. **Pleasant**. He is about 10 or 12, if he goes by his mother's age. He could still easily get his brother to laugh. Smart, and sure of himself. Competition didn't have control of him - **yet**. He understood his position in the family and still enjoyed knocking his brother down a peg or two. Well that still hadn't changed. He smiles and continues to reminisce. Accepting his role of older sibling, protector of his younger brat brother. In some ways a typical brother relationship. But most of all, Charlie wasn't in school with him yet. Although sometimes he still enjoyed tricking his younger sibling into giving him a homework answer in math. Life was simpler then. **Easier**. His world had balance.

A voice stops his observations. "Don, you look like you could use something to eat. How about I make you some pancakes." She scurries into the kitchen and he forces himself to follow.

"This isn't real, is it? I mean, I must be dreaming. You're…" he can't continue as his throat constricts and he falters unable to speak.

"Dead," she finishes for him and smiles. "You're where you need to be. What you call this doesn't really matter, does it? If a dream feels right, then call it a dream. I'm an excellent listener…You have something important that you need to discuss…I'm here to listen. Solutions are just waiting to be discovered. Now sit, while I make you some pancakes. Blueberry or buttermilk?"

He blinks the moisture away. _Not losing it now_. How many times did he take this for granted. Thinking that she would always be here. He glances around the room and notices a white bright light. He feels her hand on his shoulder and he looks up at her. She places her hand on his cheek and for a moment she lingers. Time stands still. "Not yet, Donnie. It's not time for that yet," breaking the spell and ending the silence.

Frowning and a little unsure of himself, he responds on auto pilot. "Only Dad gets away with calling me '**Donnie**'. I can't stop him…he won't listen. You promised…" He mutters under his breath. "You promised many things…but you didn't keep several of them." Bitterness and sadness overwhelms him, he fights his emotions, trying to suppress the tears. Wishing he could control his emotions like normal and create a cheerful façade. He attempts to smile. Saying nothing, she steps away. He watches as she stirs the pancakes. Neither ready to speak. Silence fills the room. Rubbing his forehead with his right hand, "Don't know what's wrong with me. I'm fine, really…"

"No, you're not fine. You can't fake or hide your feeling's here. _Truth._ It's time for honesty." Her hand stops stirring the batter and she turns and looks him in the eye. "No, I didn't keep many of my promises…did I? We need to talk about our last moment together. I'm sorry…I asked too much from you in the end. I shouldn't have… waited till you had left. It would have been easier, less complicated. I'm sorry Don…I was selfish…I just didn't want to die alone."

"Don't…don't say it. Yes, it was difficult. The hardest assignment, I ever had. But I don't regret it. I like knowing you weren't alone…I never told them. I couldn't. Dad didn't want to know the details. He just assumes…I've kept him in the dark. Is that wrong?" His eyes plead for understanding and…something else.

"Don", she comes over and sits next to him and placing his hand in hers and intertwining their fingers together. Both sit for a moment, just soaking in each other's presence. Not saying a word. Yet the expressions on their faces speak loud and clear for all who could see. "Don, I asked the unthinkable. I asked you to help me get your Dad out of the room. To trick him into believing we had more time. He left thinking he would see me in the morning. But you and I knew differently. Alan missed the last doctor's update and you lied for me. So he didn't know it could be hours instead of a few days. I had said my goodbyes…to Charlie…to Alan… your father." A tear slides down his face despite his best effort to stop it. Her hand touches his chin and she gently turns him to look at her. "Don, you have limits… limits which you can bear. I was selfish, because I needed my firstborn to be with me. We had been separated. You came back. The sacrifice you willing gave. Charlie couldn't deal with the burden, probably because I babied him so much. Your father and I sheltered him so he resorted to what comfort he could find in those last moments – his numbers. I really did understand…It didn't hurt me, because I had you and your father. Alan…I couldn't leave him…He was my rock, my foundation. I wish things could have been different…my body just gave out. It was time." She pauses unable to continue for a moment and before either realizes it, they are hugging each other and hanging on for dear life. Tears rolling down their faces. Healing tears. Don breaks away and uses his thumb to wipe hers away. She stands and turns away before continuing.

"My first born. Don…" Crossing her arms in front she unconsciously rubs her right arm. "I kept telling myself, Don could handle it…You're like me…You understood, accepted things better…at least that's what I told myself. But the burden of my death still haunts you…Is that part of the reason you don't let anyone in.

He stands up but unable to make the first move. He whispers, "I can't do that again. Especially, if I'm the reason for her death. Nightmares.I have these terrible nightmares at times. Sometimes, it's Charlie…or Dad…but the worst one involves a woman. She doesn't have a face. She dies in my arms all because someone took revenge on me, using her to get to me…I'm so afraid, that if I allow someone to be in my life…I'll have to watch them die…slowly…painfully… like you. It's all jumbled. Confusing. Everyone, thinks I handled it better. They're wrong. I accept that death is part of life, that there is something beyond death…at least part of me hope that it's true. Another part of me, doesn't believe." He turns away, trying to control his raging emotions. Desperate to know. "Are you really happy?"

"Happy? How do you define happiness? There are things I want for my children, my husband. Till they are taken care of, or at least heading in the right direction, how can I truly be content? But I'm blessed. I have two sons that are doing amazing things and yes – I'm proud…You have both learned to work so well together." She turns and starts cooking the pancakes. He sits and gazes at her. **Silence.** For a minute neither speaks, but just enjoy a familiar sensation. Going back in time and savoring each others company.

A gentle squeeze on his right hand grabs his attention. It startles him – as no one is there. His mother glances his way and grins. The pressure on his hand lingers. Intending to stand, he sinks back into his chair as a dizzy spell overwhelms him. "Mom…" he whispers and fear overpowers him for no apparent reason.

"Here, eat your pancakes before they get cold. You didn't answer, so I added blueberries to one. Don't think…eat," she commanded. Not wanting to disappoint her, he complies.

A voice pleads, "Don, you need to wake up. It's time…past time. Dad's on his way…It would be a nice gift if you were awake when he gets here."

A buzzing sound penetrates his ears. The voice mysteriously disappears. Another dizzy spell and he notices the light – a blinding white light.

"No!" Margaret pulls his chin towards her and forces him to focus on her. "Sorry, but it's not time yet. I need…Enjoy your breakfast. "There's a good boy.

Confusion fills his eyes. It was so surreal. "Mom, I've never heard you say 'good boy' before. What's going on? Why do I feel like I'm in two different places at the same time? What's with the light…you seem afraid of it…Why?" He grabs her hand and holds on for dear life – like she is his lifeline.

"Donnie…Don" Correcting herself. "I can't influence you. Haven't you ever wondered, why someone who was so terrible injured survives and another that isn't harmed so bad dies? You have a choice to make. I can't persuade you in any shape or fashion. Youalready know the answer. I'm just here to help you recognize what you've already decided."

"So it's fate…a dream…you're not really here…I'm not here? I'm dying in a hospital somewhere?" Tears slid down his cheeks and for the first time since he saw his mom and he does nothing to stop them.

Her thumb wipes away his tears and she gives him a cup of tea. "Drink," she quietly commands.

"You're not answering me…so I must be on track? Whenever I needed answers…you were the one I came too. If I go into the light, I'll be with you…won't I." A buzzing sound once again surrounds his ears and he wonders why he is so lightheaded.

"Dad, thank God…You're here. I tried…I don't know what to do."

"What you've been doing…we'll do it together." Silence feels the space as he puts a suitcase down.

Thud 

"I didn't swing by the house…I needed to see Don. Donnie…you listen to me…you got to wake up. Come back to us." begs Alan.

His father's voice…hands holding his hands, tapping his arms…but he is still in the kitchen. They aren't here. Only his mother is present and she smiles.

"What's happening? I hear them, but I don't see them. My hands feel them clasping and rubbing my arms. My arms are heavy… like lead. I can't move… it's like I'm frozen. Mom… I'm scared," he confesses and hangs his head. Tears roll down his face. "I haven't cried this much my whole life… I'm tired… It's too much. This time it's too much… I'm not strong enough."

"Bro…Don…we'll help you get through this…You just have to wake up."

"Charlie, go home and get some sleep. You'll get sick if you keep this up. I'm here. I promise I'll call. Now, go home. No arguments… Thanks Larry for driving him home."

Conversations drift around him. Don feels lost, unsure of what is real and what is imaginary. The pancakes are gone… His mom is gone.

"**MOM**!" No response…except he hears a melody. Stifling his emotions, he stands and walks out of the kitchen. He intends to confront her…demand answers. His energy drains away and he sinks into the couch and listens. Nothing was making any sense. Loss of control. A hand brushes his forehead. But, once again, no one is there. A voice scolds him.

"Donnie… you know better. Drinking… This isn't like you. I expected better from you. You're the example. Well… none of that matters right now. You have to come back to me. Let me in. Haven't you learned by now, that you can trust me? It's safe to tell me what's got you so upset… Please Donnie… it's been **forty-eight hours**. Two days of doing nothing but lying around."

"I brought dinner…Dad why isn't he waking up…Why can't the doctors find anything wrong?"

Music, voices drift around him. Yet he doesn't have the strength to get up. To move. Then he sees it. **A light, a bright white light.** It would be so easy to just leave. The music gets louder – **dark**. No longer can he resist the magic…the pull of the light. He walks towards it, not looking back. Leaving everything he ever knew or cared about. Feeling it was time…it was time.

BEEEEP! 

"No, damn it. You fight, you hear me? Please – I need you…don't leave!"

"**DONNIE!" **

She stands in front of him. Forcing him to stop. "You could leave. Right now…it might feel wonderful. No responsibilities. No one to count on you. But do you really want to _run away_ from your demons?"

"Mom…I can't do this anymore." Buzzing fills his ears, everything is blurry. For a split second he sees mom surrounded by light and Charlie being held by his father. He looks at his brother sobbing, tears rolling down his cheek. "Charlie."

Tick Tock 

**BEEEEP!**

"Flat line…we're losing him!"


	6. Chapter 6

**PG - 13 to be safe  
**  
**Thanks Ritt for helping beta the first part of the chapter. The last part hasn't been edited. Did the best I could with it. Chapter isn't finished - I'm stuck so posting to see if you can help me get unstuck. I'm hoping your reviews will help me figure out some solutions for those of you that are still interested in this piece.**

**11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

**Broken Pieces Chap. 6**

Riding on his bike, blissfully enjoying the trails. A beautiful sunshiny day, with a slight breeze blowing on his back. Then he sees him... his brother. He waves but Don doesn't wave back. Instead, he swiftly runs away. Charlie's curiosity is piqued as a chase seems out of character - for a split second - then he is in pursuit. Hot on the trail and ready for the game.

**What the hell?** Every time he almost catches up to him, Don would mysteriously appear just out of reach again.

"Don…wait up, I need to talk with you." He watches as his brother stops. Another person walks up and stands by his brother. For a moment he doesn't recognize her and then…"Mom!"

"Sweetie, take care of your father. I'm depending on you now." She and Don smile and wave.

"NO!"

"Charlie, wake up. You're having a nightmare. Charlie…" Concern radiates from Alan's eyes. "It might be better if you talk about it."

Silence. No sound. It is too quiet. There should be sound – noise – to demonstrate that you were alive. "Don…" He can't speak. He can't get the memory out of his mind. Don pronounced dead. Then nothing. The monitors, everything was shut down. All that was left was saying goodbye. But how do you say goodbye?

A strong voice interrupts his thoughts. "Charlie…he's alive. You're focusing on three minutes. Yes… for three horrible minutes he was dead…"

"It's not like TV. If it was, Don would be well…Dad, what if they hadn't believed me? They tried to pull me away…they said I just needed to rest. That it was just a reflex…"

Alan shook his head. "Charlie, your insistence that they check his heart, changed everything. It was beating. He's alive. You fought for your brother's life. Let's focus on that…not the three minutes."

"Dad…I wanted to stay. Why wouldn't you let me stay?" Frustration showing in his eyes. He can't believe he's crying – that his body is betraying him. He was just so angry.

"Charlie, over the last forty-eight hours you'd barely slept for an hour, maximum. You were worn out. Then add the trauma of Don's near death experience…" Alan sighed. "I'm your father. I know your limits. You'd reach them and sleep was the only solution. You wouldn't sleep at the hospital, so I did what fathers do – I brought you home. The sleeping pills were necessary and I'd do it again. I can't have both of my sons in peril. Okay?" He smiles and puts his hand on his son's shoulder. "Besides, I'll let you in on a little secret – I needed to sleep in my bed too. Better?"

Charlie smirks. He hates to admit it, but he does feel more grounded. "I guess…This time I'll let you off the hook, but don't do it again – I need to see him."

"We both do." Charlie wasn't the only one plagued with nightmares. That moment was forever engraved in Alan's mind. He lost his son yesterday. Then a miracle – a blessing. His son came back. "Charlie, look…we don't know how long Don will be unresponsive. You have to promise me, no more not eating and that you'll rest. Otherwise…"

"I promise… I need to call Larry. "

**Beep, Beep, swish.**

**53 hours**

"Don… you really know how to scare a guy, don't you?" Charlie watches his brother's chest rise and fall, thankful for the inventions of modern medicine. A ventilator. He wonders if he will ever see his brother's eyes again. _If this is it..._ "Please, come back. I need you…Dad needs you." He remembers Dr. Hinchman's words and hopes with all of his heart he's wrong.

Unfortunately, I think I know the answer to this. Don was blaming himself and making poor judgment calls…I'm afraid his state of mind isn't helping us at all…I don't want him left alone if at all possible. I believe in the power of positive thinking…of a patient being connected to love ones. It might be all we have to turn this around. The will of a patient can determine so many things… For now, the ventilator is necessary. All of the test results point to the same thing. He should be waking up…but he isn't. I wish I could say more than we'll just have to wait and see. Maybe family and love could be the ticket that turns the tide...

**Swish, Tick, Ding.**

"Don, how can you sleep through all this noise. I think you would be jumping at the bit to get out of here. It's not a great place to stay. Might be a nice place to visit, but you're wearing out your welcome here…"Damn it, Don…Wake up!" Charlie blinks back the moisture –determined to regain control of his emotions. He clasps his brother's hand and with his thumb he rubs back and forth. Using the movement to avoid his feelings. A hand squeezes Charlie's shoulder.

"Charlie, it's time." Alan watches as his son turns and faces him and all the while his eyes pleading for just a moment longer. "I came prepared. Drink and yes, you're taking them. No arguments, unless you want to be sleeping in your own bed instead of the uncomfortable cot," states Alan. "Remember our deal, I expect you to live up to it."

Defeat. "Please, just a little longer…then, I promise I'll rest." He attempts the puppy dog look. Disappointment – when his father only thrusts the cup of water into his hands.

"Now, Charlie Edward Eppes, or we are leaving. I'm giving you five minutes to get settled in that cot. I know you're not going to sleep long even with the sleeping pills. If Don needs you, I will wake you – I promise. Okay?" Alan's eyes soften when his son takes the pills. "Thank you. Son, I gave you an extra hour, but no more. You need to sleep. Now shoo, go get ready and off to sweet dreams, you go." Charlie disappears into the bathroom and comes back ready for bed. He gets under the covers and Alan can't resist tucking him in. Rubbing his head and messing up his hair, a simple gesture reminding him of years past. A sigh, escapes his little one's lips, but as soon as his head hits the pillow, his breathing evens out demonstrating just how exhausted Charlie is. Alan smiles as he is reminded of a simpler time. So he watches Charlie sleeping. The rhythms of his breathe, inhaling and exhaling – such an easy exercise for most of us. Then he wonders if it will ever get normal again. He stretches trying to get the kinks out of his back before he heads over to his other son. The things we take for granted – such a simple act of breathing. Something that his eldest could no longer do on his own. His son was slipping farther and farther away. How could he help him? Now that Charlie is down for the count so to speak, he pays attention to his eldest. "Looks like you're ready for a few exercises. I really wish you would change your mind about staying here. The accommodations are not that great. Terrible on my poor back, if you get my drift. Your brother is pushing himself beyond his limits. He's not eating like he should nor is he sleeping well. I've had to resort to blackmail to get him to keep his word. Don Eppes, open your eyes, now!" Nothing. Just the sound of the respirator and the monitors and a light snore coming from his youngest. Good thing, I made Charlie take those sleeping pills. "You always were the most stubborn, son. Oh, a few times – Charlie stole the honors, but for the most part….you won it hands down. Don't have a clue where you got it from – well, I guess your mother, but right now…" Tears roll down his cheeks and he does nothing to stop them. "Aren't we a sight. Like Father, like son. Please Donnie…I need you. I can't take losing you right now. I need more time. Don't leave us. Please son. Okay, you rest. I've got a few puzzles to do." He sits near the bedside and for a moment he watches both of his sons. Charlie curled up in a tight ball and Don lying flat on his back – and so still that it is eerie to watch.

**80 hours**

**Tick Tock, Swish, Drip.**

"NO!"

Alan blinks and rubs his eyes. Looking around, wondering why he felt a little unsettled. He checks on Don, but no change. Then he glances at Charlie and he realizes what woke him up. A nightmare. Damn another one. Lately, the nightmares are occurring pretty regularly. Another reason his youngest fought the idea of sleeping pills. Complaining that he wasn't sleeping well and the pills were increasing the nightmares. Rising from his uncomfortable chair, he steps over to his son and calls his name softly. "Charlie, son wake up." Unfortunately, Charlie's restlessness is obvious as he tosses and turns and continues to say the word no over and over. Shaking Charlie's shoulder, Alan finally gets the results he's after. Charlie sits, pulls his legs up toward him and holds on to his legs with his left hand and rubs his forehead with his right. For a moment Alan forgets how old his youngest is and is reminded of days gone by. "Want to tell me about it?"

"Weird, God I can't get it out of my head." He looks up at his father, imploring him to understand, but unable to speak for a moment.

"Well, if you talk about, it will seem less scary. What was it about?"

"Bees."

Alan sits down on the cot. "Bees?"

"Bees. You're going to laugh, I just know it." He stares at his feet. In the dim light looking like an eight year old.

"Well, I can understand you being afraid of being stung by bees. Certainly not a fun experience," he pauses and watches his son's reactions.

Charlie sighs. Then he whispers, "not regular bees, cartoon bees."

"What, did I hear you right?"

In a stronger voice, "Cartoon Bees! Angry cartoon bees. Surrounded by bees and I couldn't create a vector field using a Helmholtz theorem. I just ran away and I couldn't figure out the math. It's so simple and I couldn't do it. I was surrounded by the damn bees and I couldn't escape. Nowhere to turn." He wipes his eyes and tries to ignore the fact that he isn't feeling very grownup right now.

"Well, that certainly could unsettle anyone and while I don't know the math involved, I know that now – you could do it." He suppresses a chuckle. Wouldn't do to laugh right now.

"Dad, I know I promised to take the sleeping pills, but they aren't helping. I can't take the nightmares. I'll take breaks, but no more sleeping pills," he implores his father to understand all with his eyes.

"I see. Tell you what, now that you're feeling safe from those nasty bees, why don't you lie down." Seeing his son comply with his wishes, really takes him back in time. He can't help himself, he leans over and kisses his son's forehead. Then he covers him up. Charlie doesn't sleep, but he at least attempts to get more rest. The circles under his eyes, suggest that the sleeping pills aren't helping enough. However, if he was honest with himself, he doubts he looks much better. Walking over to Don, he whispers so not to disturb his little one, "Charlie is reaching a breaking point. He is doing a great job holding it together, but you are really putting us through the wringer. Wish you would wake up." Then to his amazement he sees Don open his eyes. He is disappointed when he realizes that the eyes aren't focusing on him. Then before he can move, his eyes close. Alan wonders if it was real or illusion? "Okay, son. Still here. Not leaving, but I expect to see you wake up for real…soon…Okay?"

**1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**

**A/N: Okay, I'm stuck on how to deal with the respirator. The only experience I've had, is that it gave me the time to say goodbye to a love one. He died the next week. So I'm trying to figure out when Don wakes up, how long he will be on it. How do they deal with it? The research isn't helping me yet, so if you have some suggestions, willing to see what could work with where I'm going. I'm researching for answers, but not finding them right now.**

**I have one more part that I know what is going on before Don wakes up. The angst won't stop with don waking up, I've already figured out some of it, but I'm stuck right now. Did I say I was stuck? walks off shaking head, wondering if the answers will magically show up tonight**


	7. Chapter 7

Broken Pieces Chap. 6 – Part 2

Don reaches a hallway, a maze of doors. So many twist and turns creating so many solutions. The question to answer – which door would provide him his freedom? His only option, open doors or remain forever stuck in this place. Don didn't know how he had gotten lost here, or forgotten. He had a vague memory of his Mom and Charlie. Feeling torn apart. He turns the door knob and hears. "Make it so…Number One."

**Slam. **

_What is this the twilight Zone?_ He looks down the hallway. Doors loom ahead and he hopes that one of them will take him out of here. Anything had to be better than this._ One of these doors has to lead me to where I want to go._

Opening the next door, a song fills his ears.

"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,

a tale of a fateful trip…

Closes door and faintly hears… 

Five passengers set sail that day

for a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,

the tiny ship was tossed.

"Zebra Three Responding"…Hutch!…Bang.

"Here's the story of a lovely Lady"…Slam. 

"Book him Danno"…Shut.

"Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do."…Slam. 

"He's dead Jim"…Slam.

"Golly gee willikers Mrs. Cleaver."…Slam – kick.

Frustrated, he stares at all the doors left and stops. Standing still, he listens. Silence – he hears nothing. Air is forced into his lungs. Pain, he feels pain. Then it happens again. Someone clasps his hand and talks to him. "Please, open your eyes. Come on…you can do it."

_Charlie? _Don searches for his brother, but he is alone. "Charlie…Damn it Charlie…answer me! Where are you? Which door?" Then the unexpected happens, he is sitting in a wheelchair unable to move. Someone is pushing him and he can't turn his head to see them. Feeling disoriented, uncertain and wondering why he can't even move his hand. More air is forced into his lungs. It hurts. The doors become a blur. Faster and faster the wheelchair races down the hallway – out of control. A final door is blocking his path. Frantically, Don tries to open pull his hands in front of his face to protect himself, but body betrays him and his commands remain useless. Trying to speak is ineffective because no sounds come out of his mouth. He can only watch in horror as he realizes that impact is only seconds away. _Please, God open the door!_ It remains shut, closed. _Someone open the damn door…Please. _Unable to close his eyes, he can only watch in horror as he slams into the door. Pain explodes into his entire being. Loosing focus and hearing only laughter. Terrible laughter. Don curls into the fetal position, afraid to move and waits – not trusting his environment. Feeling so alone and deserted, he closes his eyes to rest. Finally stiring, opening his eyes, to see nothing – God, I'm blind. Spinning and feeling disoriented. Finally he stops and he can open his eyes. But he sees nothing. He's blind. Dispair fills his heart. It's over. He can't remember why he is here, just that he is.

"Don…don't be afraid. Look at me, sweetheart. I'm here. I promise, I'm here. You're not alone, you just have to fine your balance. Your heart is the key to opening the door, not your eyes. Trust me…Trust your father...Trust your family. Are you ready?"

Don blinks and holds out his hand to her. Drained, he feels drained and wonders if he is comprehending anything at all. The pain is sapping his energy. _Mom__…_He tries to speak but no sounds are made.

"Trust…All you have to do is trust your heart."

"Trust me, Son…Trust that I'll be here for you…all you have to do is come back to us. Charlie and I…we need you. It's time to stop running. Come home. Trust me." Alan didn't know why the word trust seemed so important right now. But he felt it was vital to reaching his son…to pull him out of his state of unconsciousness. Then the impossible happened. A hand reached out to him, begging him to grab hold of it. Alan did, Don's lifeline. He was sure of it. "Charlie, run and get the doctor…Hurry Charlie." 

Charlie's laptop and papers slid on the floor in a disarray as he sprints to comply with his father's wishes. Unclear on what was happening, missing the fact that his father is holding his brother's hand. That perhaps, his brother might be waking up.

-+1-+1-+1-+1-+1-+1-+

A/N: Well for those that are still with me, I would love some feedback so I can know if you think it is working. Been having Computer problems, but yes, it is time for Don to wake up. Hope you liked it. Not sure why the line that separates the chapters isn't working? gr...


	8. Chapter 8

**PG - 13 to be safe  
Nope, still don't own them - still playing with them.**

**Thanks Ritt for all your hard work and being my beta for this story. **

A/N: I wanted to leave it in a happy place, I'm not sure how often I will be able to update. Going into the One Act **Play**** Contest Season and I'm trying to do Shakespeare with Middle School students. I know it is a short chapter, but maybe the happy ending makes up for it?...Maybe? **

**Thanks for everyone who reads and takes the time to leave a review. I appreciate all who read my story. Please review, it makes my day!**

* * *

"Charlie, run and get the doctor…Hurry Charlie."

Then major disappointment and setbacks. Charlie optimistic outlook kept getting dashed. One step forward, two steps back. Anticipation brought alive with the words," I feel encouraged…looks like a good sign." But so far nothing appeared to be happening. Movement. Little things like, Don's hands clenching open and closed. Charlie stared at the sterile white walls, empty of life and for the hundredth time he wondered why they couldn't get a break. Hope dashed once again as Don continued to remain unresponsive. Dr. Hinchman believed that it was just a matter of time, a really good sign – but Charlie couldn't do it anymore.

**96 hours**

**Swish, Tick tock, Beep**.

"Well, you're taking your sweet time." accused Charlie as his eyes flashed and anger engulfed him. "What's your problem…why won't you wake up…why are you punishing us? Dad…you should have seen his face…he was so excited, positive that you're finally waking up…coming back to us." He paced back and forth and ignored Don clenching his right hand into a fist. "Selfish…that's what you are. You only care about your pain. Well, are you happy?" Anger surged and he felt the need to punch something, to strike back and unable to stop his mouth. "You always run away…when the going really gets tough you run. What the _hell_ did I do that was so awful, that you're always running away from me? Can you…" He stopped mid-sentence as he saw a pair of eyes staring at him. He rushed over as Don clutched at the tubing and major panic consumed his actions. Just before irreversible damage occurred, Charlie grasped Don hands and attempted to calm him down. "Don, I'm sorry…its okay…You're on a ventilator to help you breathe. "Don, look at me. That's it. I know it's excruciating and just plain awful. Just let it do its job, and I'll get the nurse in here…It won't take them long to get you off. You have to stop fighting it…okay…you with me?" Panic started to take over as he has to wrestle with his brother and then suddenly it was over. In that moment, he hit the button and prayed the nurse would come promptly. "Don…open your eyes…I need to see your eyes…please?"

"Sorry, we're really understaffed right now…"

Ignoring the nurse, Charlie's focused on his brother's still features. "He opened his eyes and then tried to take out the tube, I had to grab his hands to keep him from hurting himself. Damn it, Don! Wake up! Don't you dare slip back oblivion!"

Don eyes cracked open as if it took a force of nature to keep them that way.

Then he cast a look at the machine and Charlie realized that it was still forcing air into his brother's lungs. He'd been told it wasn't a very comfortable feeling. He realized that he still held his brother's hands and that he felt a slight pressure on his right hand. It wasn't a strong grip, but it was there. His brother was finally communicating again. He was on the road to recovery and this nightmare would soon be over. Looking over his shoulder he finally noticed the nurse. It was the witch from the ER. What on earth was she doing here?

"Look, I know that you don't want me here. But I think your brother would rather that I remove the tube. I promise I know what I'm doing and I won't harm him." Slightly nervous, she watched their reactions. The man that had almost gotten her fired. She was lucky to just get a demotion and put on the night shift…but one more mistake, one more confrontation with a patient and this time she would be fired. "Okay, I'll go and see if I can get another nurse or the doctor in here. I'm afraid it will take some time. I can assure you that I didn't intend on being here right now, but we've got an emergency's going on and they were short handed, so I was asked to see what you needed." She shook her head and walked toward the door.

"Wait…I don't want you here, but Don needs someone now." Seeing the tight features on his brother's face, he recognized that he must help his brother even if it meant letting _her_ near him again. "You, promise you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, I do know how to do this and instructions were left on the chart to have this done as soon as your brother woke up. I'm following orders, and I've done this before." Once again she turned away, "Look… I understand your feelings. I'll try to find a doctor or someone else. Just try to keep him calm. Dr. Hinchman anticipated this possibility and left instructions…we were only waiting for him to wake up."

Charlie glanced at his brother and saw his eyes were damp. "Please, he needs help now…"

Carol swiftly crossed to the patient. "When I tell you to, cough." In a short order, the tube is removed and an air cannula is placed under his nose. "Just a precaution till the doctor can examine him. I'll go and page the attending doctor now, and later you can talk with Dr. Hinchman as well."

"Thanks," With a nod she walked out, and Charlie once again gave his brother his attention. Eyes watched him but his brother made no attempt to speak. He gently took Don's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "I expect, you have a few questions." Thoughts of calling his father fluttered into his awareness, but he couldn't let go yet. He soaked in the brief moment of eye contact until Don yawned and drifted back into slumber. "Please let him be okay. Please…I promise I'll take care of him, just let him be okay."

**101 Hours**

"His speech is improving, but recovery takes time…but he has that on his side. We still need to proceed cautiously, as Don doesn't remember anything of his last case," explained Dr. Hinchman. "Retrogradepost-traumatic amnesia isn't that unusual and he may still regain his memory of the events that transpired before his injury. We will need to do more tests and a psych evaluation. As you requested, he's been moved to a private room but I still think it would be wise for you both to go home and get some rest."

"I do understand all that you've said, but for tonight we need to be with him." Alan's response made it quite clear his true feelings on the matter. As far as he was concerned his boy needed him by his side and that was just where he would stay.

Finally, alone with Don in his room. Almost silent – as silent as a hospital ever gets. No beeps or monitors to drive him insane. Then Don's eyes opened and he smiled. A big grin that made you feel as though everything is safe and almost normal. Charlie grinned and finally laughter filled the room as all three shared in the joy of seeing Don alive and on the road to recovery. It might be rocky, but together they would handle it – as a family. For one blessed moment all was well in the world.


End file.
